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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977358">The Party Crashers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset'>citrinesunset</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>White Collar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:00:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth may not be con, but being an event planner has taught her a thing or two.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Purimgifts 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Party Crashers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveChilde/gifts">LoveChilde</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal’s eyes glittered with excitement as they walked rode up in the elevator. “Did I mention I was impressed? Elizabeth Burke, planning a con….”</p>
<p>Elizabeth wouldn’t have put it that way. They were trespassing at worst. Even Peter probably would have agreed, even if he would have discouraged them for good measure. But Neal was having so much fun, so she smiled slyly.</p>
<p>“Hey, being an event planner teaches you a thing or two.”</p>
<p>Things like how to blend in with event staff and enter a venue via the service elevator. Things like how to get to the rooftop terrace of the Clairmont Hotel. She probably could have made a good con, if she’d wanted to.</p>
<p>It wasn’t her first time crashing a party. In college, she’d had her fun. There was the time she and her friends snuck into a club with fake IDs, and the time they managed to talk their way backstage at a concert. Maybe that was why she liked Neal—he reminded her of that side of herself, that she’d outgrown and put away.</p>
<p>As they stepped out into the rooftop party, Elizabeth almost gasped. Neal’s apartment may have had an impressive view, but it paled in comparison to the Clairmont’s terrace. Skyscraper lights shone in front of them like stars. Smooth jazz (not recorded, but played by a trio off to the side) swam through the hot July air.</p>
<p>Elizabeth was aware that her dress, nice as it was, wasn’t the designer quality of the women around her. Scanning the crowd, she noticed a few familiar faces she’d seen in the newspaper—politicians, philanthropists, socialites. But she accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and walked into the crowd like she belonged there. She’d been at the edge of enough events like these to know how to act. In her peripheral vision, she saw Neal help himself to a stuffed mushroom.</p>
<p>Unlike Neal, she didn’t want this life. She was happy spending a Saturday night watching TV with Peter. But it was fun to try it on, just for a bit.</p>
<p>She sipped her champagne and swayed gently to the jazz.</p>
<p>
  
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